


planting every chance

by ienablu



Category: Mad Max: Fury Road
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Past Canon Abuse, Plants, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 22:50:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6132868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ienablu/pseuds/ienablu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cheedo picks up where Furiosa leaves off, the Dag does what she does, green seedlings grow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	planting every chance

**Author's Note:**

> After a month of writer's block, I have managed to get something written and posted for Femslash February. Shout out to bloglikejaeger for the prompt for this.

Cheedo doesn’t spend much of her time in her room, much like the other Sisters. Except the Dag. They are all exceptions all of them, in different ways, but the Dag has been, is, and always will be the biggest exception to them all. At first Cheedo thought her strange for it, then endearing. Now, Cheedo sees it for what it is – bravery. A form of defiance, refusing to be anyone but herself. 

The youngest of them all, the newest to their numbers, Cheedo has always feared being an exception. Anything she thought was a weakness or a flaw or an exception, she covered it up. Suppressed it. Kept her head down, and found comfort in doing so. Such comfort, that having it ripped away was terrifying.

Cheedo tried running back to it once.

 _You’re not going back_ , the Dag had told her, and she hasn’t.

-

Angharad would have risen up to lead.

To the surprise of them all, Cheedo is the one to step up into the role. 

Furiosa is, of course, the true leader, the new ruler of the Citadel. The one who slayed Immortan Joe, respected by Mothers and Sisters and War Boys alike, her skills second to none. But she is dispassionate to the idea of ruling, and is distrusting of everyone. She plays to her strengths, fearsome reputation and fearsome carriage leading her to arrange a ceasefire with the leaders of Gas Town and the Bullet Farm.

Cheedo picks up where Furiosa leaves off. 

Furiosa was the one to decide to take back the Citadel, but by collectively turning around, the decision belonged to them all.

On the ride back, for what small portion of it was quiet, Cheedo thought. She felt herself a coward for her first attempt to return to the Citadel, and felt nothing similar to it this time. This did not feel like cowardice, it felt like redemption.

And so she sought it out. She threw away her cowardice and fragility as she threw herself to Rictus – to danger, to Furiosa’s aid.

She throws herself into the troubles of day-to-day life at the Citadel. The Milk Mothers, the War Boys, her Sisters, the masses, finding ways that unhappy people can be made happy. Cheedo does not always know what she is doing, but she keeps her head high and thinks of Angharad, thinks of strength, tries to be brave.

The days are long, and sometimes difficult.

But they balance with long nights, wrapped up in and with the Dag.

-

One morning, Cheedo wakes up to find that the Dag has already left for breakfast. A rare occurrence, but Cheedo would never question why the Dag does what she does. It all makes sense, eventually, all Cheedo has to do is wait.

Cheedo takes the opportunity to look around the room, for once not distracted by the sight of the Dag. Not the largest room, but it has the largest windows. Once near barren, over the past few weeks, the Dag has brought in every shelf she could find. There are no more than a dozen books on the shelves, though, and Cheedo secretly thinks it looks strange. No stranger than having the bed in the middle of the room, rather than pushed against a wall, but Cheedo supposes it will go from strange to endearing soon enough.

She does not see the Dag until that evening, but upon entering their room, her eyes do not immediately seek out the Dag.

The shelves are covered in tin cans and steel buckets, chipped ceramic cups and bowls, odds and ends. Cheedo just looks around the room a few times, eyebrows furrowing deeper and deeper, before she turns to the Dag.

The Dag sits in the middle of the bed, back straight and head held high. “Take a look.”

They are dirt.

And dirt.

And more dirt.

It is only on the fourth shelf does she see the first hint of green, a small fleck of green amongst the dark brown dirt. Cheedo bends down to examine it. Fragility is still part of her, and she is careful as she moves dirt from around the stem. “What is it?” she asks, peering down, looking for more hints of green.

There is no reply.

A lack of response either means the Dag is being cryptic and secretive, or that she has dozed off. Cheedo turns around.

The Dag is lying down now, on her stomach, facing Cheedo. “You should be able to see in a few weeks,” she finally answers.

Cheedo, for all her flaws, is not impatient. She nods, and smiles. “I look forward to it.”

-

The next morning, Cheedo startles at the sight of all the vesicles amongst the shelves. As her dreams retreat, images of dirt roads and green places fading, last night’s conversation returns.

The Dag is still lying behind Cheedo, but Cheedo has had many mornings of practice slipping out of the Dag’s sleepy grasp. Especially nowadays that Cheedo lies further away, due to the Dag’s growing abdomen taking up the space Cheedo used to occupy.

From behind her, the Dag says, “I’ve planted a new seed a day.”

Cheedo notices the Keeper of the Seed’s bag reverently resting on the highest shelf. They all have different grieves from the day they retook the Citadel, and Cheedo lightly says, “I’m sure she would appreciate it.”

“I’ve talked to the plants about her,” the Dag replies. “And about Angharad.”

Cheedo rises from bed, goes about dressing for the day. While not to the same extent as the other Sisters, Cheedo is still curious. “Do you tell them about me?”

“They’ll get to see their Keeper and Angharad, eventually, and I think they’re excited for it. But they get to meet you first, and they are excited they’ll finally get the chance.”

-

Seedlings sprout shelf by shelf.

The Dag kisses Cheedo’s shoulder. “Told you.”

-

The Dag’s abdomen grows larger and larger.

Cheedo switches their sleeping positions, so she can wrap her arm around the Dag.

Problems come, problems are solved.

Max comes, Max goes.

More and more pots come in, filling gaps on shelves.

Seedlings grow, flowers bloom.

-

One morning, Cheedo wakes up, and is struck by how green the room is. How close the Dag is to giving birth. What life was a year ago, what it has become now.

Cheedo presses herself further against the Dag, and kisses her bare shoulder, gently squeezes her abdomen. Morning sunlight is shining on them, and Cheedo absorbs the warmth of the sun, the warmth of the room, the warmth of the Dag.

“Our daughter is going to be raised in a green place,” Cheedo says.

The Dag hums sleepily in agreement.

Hope is a form of bravery, as is love.

And here, in a green place, soon to be one of the mothers, Cheedo plans on bravery.

**Author's Note:**

> Also, shout out to all the MMFR Oscar winners. I punched the air with every win.


End file.
